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The Exeter Advocate, 1890-9-4, Page 6Stenographees We Have }renown, Mae stenographer Ilium out his aign one day, to the (gaze of a busy city, Iteporting of an kinds done here; Cases teliert in either hemisphere g Leeturers reported M Blackstoee or Chitty Soientifie or technical matter, and MI other Io not here raentiou, Prora the sad funeral oration To the speech ct the celebration, Will receive prompt attention. French and German reported and fleetly trans- cribed into English, Aa wen e,s Armenian and Spanish ; Dictation in Norwegian and Denies, Translated 'rite elegant Euglish. Medical lectures taken ou the disease " Cerebro- spinaloneeingitis," On nerves of motion and sensibility, On museee and their oontraetility ; Also those on Bronchitis. Sermons taken frora Hebrew or Sanscrit, Cases solicited in litigation; Re took notes from English dictation, And couldn't get out a transcript. ADOPTED BY THE DEAN: A TALE OF TWO 00IINTEJE13. All she could do at present wee to sym- pathize with her, and try to give her fresh =Wrests ; and Bert/aa did seem rather happier when ehe was fairly out of the dreary Bayswater lodgings, and established in Esperance's pretty drawing -room. George was in the city all day, and the tim6. passed slowly when she was alone; but lu the Magueys' house there was a brightness and geniality in the very &trims. phere which roused her from her depression of spirits. After a time her Inane there became almost daily institutions; she woald sit nursing little Noel by the hour, or talking sadly yet with a kind of pleasure of Rilchester and the deanery, and the by. gone times. Esperance was only too glad to have her, and was always bright and cheerful while the was present; but after she had gone her face would become thoughtful and sad, and sometimes a tear would fall on the baby's white frock as she thought over poor Bertha' s troubles. " If my uncle would only relent," she used to say to Claude, when most troubled by Bertha's paleness and depression. " Well, oherie," Claude would reply, "yon and Noel must go to Rilohester and Mach his heart, that is the only plan I can think of." An 1 Esperanoe would laugh, and hold her eaby more closely, while she declared that his little brown face woald be worse thee useless. Rii Asester seemed but little altered; and Dap ranee looked at the quiet streets and picturesque houses with an odd sort of affection; she had learned a great deal wheil the lived there, and she could look back upon the suffering now with undis- tarbed serenity, seeing how good had come out of evil. It was clarions to drive down the eery streets which she used to pass through on her way to and from the Priory, to recall the long, weary walks, her terror when it grew dusk, and her encounter with a gang of workmen, and then to look to the other side of the carriage and to see Claude giving a blithe recognition to the preoeator, and little Noel gazing with wide- opeee 1 eyes at all about him. How little he had dreamed in those dark days of the posseesions which were awaiting her in the future. Oa the following day they were to dine at tee deanery, and Mrs. Mortlake and Dee.11 Collinson inane to see them before the tternoon service. Christahel was, of cote se, as polite and amiable as possible, and put on her very best company maniere, bat Esperance 'knew she did not really like her any better than before, and thank d the fussing politeness almost more than the former sharp fault-finding. The dean, too, seemed more pompoue than aver; she had mentioned Bertha's name to arra, but he had looked displeased, and had at once changed the subject. On the whole the visit hsd been a disappointing one, and she left weary and depressed. "Why, ray little' Mariana," said Claude, as he returned from seeing the visitors out, and found Esperance with the shadow of then old look on her face, " what has been troubling pia?" "1 don't know," eaid Esperanoe, half laughing, and allowing herself to be ensconced on the sofa, "1 am cross and stupid to.day, and somehow after our long happiness it seems rather a weight to come haok to Chriatabel. And 'Uncle Collinson seems heartless -and he aid not even care to hear of Bertha." CHAPTER XXXV. "dr. and Mrs. Magnay 1" The heavy door was thrown back, the tall footman stood aside, and Esperanoe found herself once more in the purple drawing.roora. Mrs. Mortlake had not coma down; but Cornelia °erne forward witla her kind and real welcome, and Esperance's old friends, Mrs. Lowdell and her daughter Grace, were also there. She was glad to be able to tell them all about Gaspard, and she did not mind recalling the past troubles whiole had happened during their last visit, now that she mild look across the room to where her husband stood in conversation with the dean. Dean Collinson had for the time lost his pomposity -he was talking very eagerly. "1 have been busy in the observatory," Esperance heard him eay ; "we must go up there after dinner." Then in a nainute both armed the room to the window -seat where she was sitting. "Let us oome one moment, oherie ; we want to see what kind of a night it is," and Claude drew aside the heavy purple ourtains, and looked out intently, shading hie eyes from the light within. It was cerdite dusk, but not too dark to prevent their seeing a great rolling masses Of cloud away to the southeast. "A thunder storm," said Claude, "if I' am not mistaken ; I thought it would come eaa sooner, the elty was so larid this after. etoon," " Provoking ! " said the dean, " it will prevent us from taking our observations, but it will pass over, I've no doubt." Dinner wail announced just then. Esper- me sat next to Cornelia, and had eo much to tell her that she got through the tediously long infliction better than she had expected. The gentlemen did not stay downnitairo long; directly after tea they adjourned to the observatory, and Mies Grace Lowden having expressed a wish to go tip too, Cor - maim and Esperance followed with her. Es/Jenne° was glad tor peep into her old etttioqoona, now filled with Belle'e play things, an the could not repress a little ehiver as oho remeinbered how intioh she had gone through there. She held Cornelia's hand more closely, and crossed the landing qtdokly to the observatory, where Claude was working away at the great covitheel Which turned the domed roof, so as to open it for the telescope, whioh was not yet adjusted. Mies Lowden was enchanted she had never been in the observetdry before, and had no idea ingenione Machineryexisted there. The dean had balled Cornelia to tba Adjoining mord, and Esperance mid Illiee Lowden had jest climbed up the fllght of dinpS on the little woOden stage, When a sudden And very 'Old flee& of %paining otattled them both, " eht pray lei tla get down," said Miss Lowden, nervously. "We seem so terribly near to it up here. It nittet be the begin- ning of a storm." Yes," ssid Esperence, with a slight Shiver, as another flash succeeded, quickly fellowed by a tremendous clap of thunder. She had a great horror of thunder. storms, and ae Claude came half -way up the steps to help her down, her hand felt oold and tremuloug. "Yon must come down.stairs, derling," he said decisively. " There is no use in oar teeing rip Isere till the storm has passed.' ' " Noel will be SO frightened," she sand, pleadingly, "don't you think, I might go home to him? " "What 1 in the middle of the storm? " "It.has not begun to ram ret; and it is not far ; besides, the lightning will not be wore out-of.cloore than it is here. Cornelia will understand how it is -will you not 2 " she, said, turning to laer cousin, who had just rejoined them. "Quito," mid Cornelia, kindly, "you must do jut what you like, dear." "Then I will go, please, Claude, for I shall no feel happy about Noel; you know Marie it very young." " Co -iderably older than her email mistre, ,'' said Claude, with a comical look. Come and Miss Lowden both laughed. while Esperance drew heraelf up with an expreseion of mock dignity. "1 was twenty last birthday; and you've no business to laugh at me now 1 ani out of my teens." They laughed all the more, however, and it was not until another still more vivid flash startled there all, that they left the observatory, Cornelia and Miss Lowden joining Chrietabel in the drawing -room, and Claude and Esperanoe returning to their hotel. There was a heavy oppressiveness about the atmosphere -not a star was visible - and es they crossed the open square which led from the deanery to the Vicar's Court the darkness eeetned to press almost pain. fully on their sight. They had scarcely reaohed the old gate -way when a flash -if flash it could be called -which seemed to them like a mass of golden -red fire, blazed past them, while simultaneously came the most appalling thunder -clap. Eeperance was half deafened by it for a moment, but her terror was conquered by her amazement. She had never seen or heard anything so grandly awful. Claude pat hie arm around her. " Do not be frightened, darling, that is most likely the worst we shall have." " Did the cathedral tower fall " she asked. " Surely something fell in that great crash -something is falling now 1 Oh, listen 1 " Claude turned baok toward the deanery -the direction from which the noise came. The lampdight was too dim to reveal much, but the next moment the lightning illumined the old laoase, and in that brief glance they could see that the observatory had been altogether wrecked. The jagged and irregular outline stood out darkly against the bright sky, then in an instant the Mick darkness veiled it from their sight. " Cornelia 1 my uncle! Oh, Cleride, they must be killed 1 " cried Esptranoe, in an agony of grief. "Let us go back! " Claude was struck dumb by that terrible revelation; he could not refuse her, and they hurried back to the hottee, where all was confesion. By the time they had reached the door Mrs. Mortlake, with poor little terrified Bella, had rushee. out, Mra. and Mise Lowden, hurried after her, while the servants had already fled andwere standing on the grass in front of the house, huddled together in their fright. " Oh, Eaperance, it has been so terrible!" said Mrs. Mortlake, clinging to her. "11 it had been ten minutes later Bella would have been upstairs 1" " Are you all sale? " asked Esperance, shuddering. "1 do not know. We were sitting in the drawing-roorn when that fearful oresh came, and the whole house seemed to tremble and vibrate, and—." But Esperanoe interrupted her -"Where is Cornelia " No one knew. "And the dean!" said Mrs. Lowden. " Where is the dean " The little crowd round the honse had increased, but the neighborhood was so quiet and retired that it was still small ; there was a low, awed murmur, as a dead silence followed Mrs. Lowdell question. Jest then a light was seen within the hall; it approaohed slowly, and Esperanoe , gave a glad ory as she discerned Cornelia carefully crossing the pavement, which was strewn with fallen beams and broken frag- ments of glass. Bat as she came nearer her fixed, ashy -white face put all rejoicing to flight, and fear made every one speech. less. Claude went to meet her and first broke the silence. "We have been so anxious about you 1" he said, hurriedly. " I hope you bring an news of the dean? " She turned her rigid faoa toward him. "1 cannot reach him. Be was in the ante -room, close to the observatory, when we came down -the way is impassable nowt" "Some one must go up and find him," said Mrs. Mortlake, and she called the foot- man; but the danger was great, and the footman bring back reluctantly. Claude left Cornelia then for a moment, and drew Esperanoe a little apart from the crowd. "Darling," he said, gently, " I rattat see if I cannot help to find your unole. Will you go back to baby? Mrs. Lowden will go with you, I am Bare." " I cannot go till you come down again," said &wawa trembling. "And oh, Claude, it will be so dangerous I Must you -need you go ? " He held her closely. "1* seems the only chance, darling. I know the house thoroughly, and am young and strong. The dean is a feeble old man, I cannot leave him without help -you would not wish mete do so." "No, no 1 " sobbed Eaperance, " you must go, only let me wait here." " But the ram is so heavy -it is so bad for you, and the dorm is not over." "1 do not mind it -see / do not even start now at the lightning!" she pleaded. "Only let me stay here and I will be quite good and quiet -it would be much worse for me to have to go," He yielded to her entreaties, and bending down, Mewed her, caught her hands irk his, and mid in low, hurried tones, "Pray for UB, darling -and trust." ' " Yes," she replied, earnestly-" alwayo." The last words pegged her lips hall- dreamily-ehe could not have given her meson for adding it. The lamp.light fell fully on Olende'e face now; he looked- up into hie elear, grave, blue eyes -one last, long look,, -then he otooped once more to kiee her, wrapped her cloak More closely round her, and walked hurriedly away. For a minute Esperance attained her oyes to follow him in the dim light. Some one brought him a lantern, he spoke it few word e to Cornelia and then walked tip the steps and dimempeared in the darkneomi. Her head drooped then, mind she leaned egdirist the lamp.poot for euppori, *mating with folded handle and closed eyes, People gathoted round her. and talked hoperldli, but idie ouid not heed tbeui, .he never raised her eyes until a halt-whiopered remark roused her-" NOV MSS 00111118011 SeeMS gnittO manned." Then she drew nearer to the door where Cornelia was standing, and put her arm round her waist, and held one of her °old hands in hem. Cornelia looked at her pityingly. 4, My poor ohild, you ought not to be here." "Ir will .not hurt me, he told me I might iltay-we will wait together," uhe, replied, " Tell Christabel and the others to go under slaeltee somewhere," said Cornelia, utteriog the words with diffioulty. Esperance obeyed, and Mrs. Mortlake and her guests soeepted the offer of ons qt the minor oanons', and took refuge in the Vicar's Court, Then Esperanoe returned again to Cornelia, and the two women waited in glance through minute(' which in their agony ot suspense seemed like hours -waited in the pouring rain, and the chill of the autumn night, unheedful of all around, each knowing that the life most dear to her in the world was in mortal danger. There was an expectant hush; every one was listening intently for some alga which night tell of Claude's eu0oeee, yet to Elsperanoe it seemed as if the quiet court had never before been so noisy. Her ears were strained to catob the faintest sound from the house, and the low whispers of the lookere.on, the ceaseless drip of the rain on the gravel, and the distant roll of the thunder, seemed almost more than she (mild endure. Clancle'a friend, Mr. White, and two or three servants and neighbors, had ventured as far as the hall, and were the first to hear the shout from above. Cornelia and Esper- ance heard the voioe but could not dia. tinguieh the words. Mr. White hurried out to theta, however -it was all right, the dean was unhurt. Cornelia uttered a fervent thanksgiving, then again there was unbroken silence while the perilous deliaeut was made down the shattered and almoet impassable staircase. Ladders had been prooared, but they bed proved too abort and could not be adjusted, nor was the feeble old dean very anxious to try them. Claude had found him in the room adjoining the observatory, or rather among ite ruins, just recovering from the shook of the aocident which had at first stunned him. He was safe and unhurt, but so muck agitated that to oonvey him safely down again was no easy matter. -The wooden balustrade and more than half the stairs themselves had been cradled by the falling -in of the observatory, and the debris was strewn ito thickly on the remaining portion that walking was very diffieult ; more than once the dean turned giddy, and was obliged to pause, but at length the worst part of the deecent was over, and they could see the faces of the watchers in the ball. They had just reached the top of the last flight where the foothold Was rather more sure, when the dean with fresh con- fidence began to move more quickly, missed his footing, grasped hold of Claude, slipped down a step or two, but finally recovered himself. Claude, however, could not resist the sudden shook; the dean was next to the wall, but he was on the outside, on the very verge of the broken and shattered stairs. For an instant he struggled hard to right himself, but in vain; the dean glancing round, held the wall for proteotion with one hand, and with the other clutched despairingly at his rescuer. But it was aselese ; Claude fell heavily into the hall below. * * e e * * * Esperanoe had turned cold and faint,,but the sight of her hueband revived terrible though it was. She took off her cloak and spread it on the ground of the porch, then signaled M them where to place him, and, supporting his head, wiped his face with her handkerchief. The others looked on sadly; they had Namely any hope. Cornelia quite dreaded the arrival of the doctor, so certain did she feel that his first words would blast poor Esperanoe's hopes, Claude's death -like pallor and ioy cold- ness had, however, misled them'the dootor reassured them ; was still living, but was unconscious from the effects of 000' 0035100 of the brain. The dean, who had been too much ehooked till now to speak, fairly burst into tears on hearing this; all his pomposity vanished, and he sobbed like a ohilrl-" It is my doing: -my doing 1" Cornelia could not soothe him; but as Claude was placed on a mattress, and borne slowly away to the hotel, Esperance seemed to awake to the recollection of others, and quickly perceiving how matters were, begged her uncle to wine back with her. After a time she reoovered herself, and, hastily dressing left Noel with Marie and went to her hueba,nd's room. There was no improvement of any kind; Claude lay cold and motionless -she onlyknew that he still lived by the words spoken to her as ehe came in-" No change." The weary day passed on to its close and night came; the next morning and the next night, and still only a continuation of that awful death in life. On the evening of the third day Esperanoe'a hopes were raised, the deathly stillness and pallor changed, the paralyzed limbs moved once more; she watched breathlessly. But alaat them was no comfort in the Wandering, unrecog. nizing gaze of the blue eyes as they rested on her; the awakeningwas onlyto delirious ravings and to feverish paroxysms terrible to witness. CHAPTER XXXVI. Lady Worthington and Frances were away at the time of the accident; there had been a wedding in the family, and they had been from hotne a week, but the news of the diameter reached them very soon, and Lady Worthington's Drat object when she returned to Rilohester was to go at once to see Esperanoe. Frances thought it best to defer her visit, and left her eider alone at the Spread Eagle, after hearing at the door that Mr. Magnay was no better. There Was something very sad in that first visit. The tears were in her eyes, when Esperance came quietly into the room with the hushed manner which people bring with them front it nide bed; she was very pale, but her smile had los none of its radiance as ohe hastened for- ward to kiss Lady Worthington. en was very good of you to oome-I have so wanted to gee yon!" "My poor child! X have been so anxious about yon! We only heard on Saturday, and could not come hack till this morning. I am afraid you have no better amount to give me ? " "No." said Esperanoe, wearily. "On Saturday evening there was it change, and inflammation set in. Now he has mink again into it quiet, ineensible state, and there seeing; no little one can do. The dean has telegraphed thin morning for mune London dootor-be heal been very kind." Was he any the worse hinaifelf ? 1 did not hear if be woo injured at all /9 "No, he ie unhtirt." And Eoperamle gave Lady Worthington all the MAIM of the maiden*. While ohe WU stilt talking it ietrvant elime in with the micliditY lettere -Iwo diredied to " Caddo Iffintrio, Itself," Which topetande put down with it gulch Sigh, and one tobersat Irent OfisPird. The tears rose to her eyes then -it was the find ehe had from him since Olatidete and be of oeuree knew nothing of her trouble; she could uot bear to open it. Lady Worthington could nob enough admire the resolute way in whiela she turned from her troubles "Franoeu came batik with me this morn- ing," she said. "1 wonder whether you have heard any rumors of her piece ot news ?" "What!" exclaimed gseerance ; " is it really true, then! I heard a report that she was going to be married" " Trust Rilohester to be . beforehand with gossip," said Lady Worthington, smiling. " But this is really true. Can you guess whom she is going to marry?" Esperanoe thought for it minnte. "A clergyman of oome Bort, 1 suppose; Franoes viroald make such it model clergy- mau's wife." "No," said Ledy Worthington, with an amused look; "you are quite wrong." "Well, then -the squire of a oonntry parish, where elle will be a Lady Bountiful.' " Right " mid Lady Worthington. "And now who is the eclair° ?-you know him, but he lives a long way from here." "Phe squire of a country parish, and I know him," said Esperanoe, much puzzled. Then with it sadden remembrance-" Mr. Henderson 1 oan it be Mr. Henderson?" " Yes, it really is," said Lady Worthing- ton, euniling. "Ton and Madame Lerner- oier, yon see, have helped to find a husband for Frances. Esperanoe was really very much pleased at this piece of nem, and Lady Worthing- ton's vieit hart oheered and refreshed her. Leaving Esperance with her husband, she went down again to the sitting-roore, where she found the dean waiting for the last aocounta of Claude. He looked very much aged and shaken, and Lady Worth- ington fancying he would not care to see any one, would have left after the first greeting and a few words of sympathy, but he begged her almost pathetically to stay. If you could tell me, Lady Worthing- ton, what I can possibly do for that poor child; she is wearing herself oat, and I eeem powerless to help -both their deaths will lie at my door.' "Esperance told me •that Cornelia has been the greatest oomfort to her," said Lady Worthington, anxious to say something soothing, but the dean only grew more agitated. " Yee, Cornelia can help," he said, piteously, "but I myself -I who caused all the trouble, oan do nothing but watch the effects. Lady Worthington, I am an, old man and a aoholar, but now for the first time I have found that all my life has been lived for self, and because of that wrong motive, I have been self -deceived. I see it now all too plainly, but the punishment is very hard, very bitter. It is grevious to it helplesely by, watching the ruin one has caused in the present, haunted by the specters of past deeds. My sister -whom you yourself remember -Monsieur de Mabillon, his son, even his own children, all rise up before me with reproaches. I see that you think this a strange confession for me to make; but I tell you this that you may know how all-important it is that I shoald find some means of helping Esper- anoe. Yon know her better than any one, you and Miss Neville; can you not think of something which I can do to relieve her 2 " Lady Worthington's still beautiful facie was full of sympathy; her humorous gray eyes were softened, and beamed with a kindly light; years ago she had owned to her husband that she felt that it would be a sheer impossibility to rouse the dean from his selfishness to a perception of his duties, and now from his own lips she was hearing that Claude and Esperance had succeeded in this. She paused for a moment before answering, then, with the hesitation of one who speaks while yet thinking out some doubtful point, she said, " There is one way that has just ocourred to me, in which I think you might perhaps help Mrs. Magnay. I know from what she said just now bow much she longs to have her brother with her -would it be possible for him to be sent for? " The dean started to his feet with sudden animation. "Lady Worthington, I don't know how to thank you enough; she must surely be relieved by theit ; and it had never atrack me -yon see I am not accustomed to think of other people, I have been self-engroised, that is the faot, and now when I long to see how to help, and what to do, I am blind and powerless. But that is really it good ideal I will telegraph to Mr. Seymour, tell him to advance the necessary money to Monsieur de -to Gaspard and offer any oompensation which Mr. Seymour may think to charge for his sadden withdrawal. The visit of the London doctor took plaoe a later in the week, and the dean built a great deal on it, hoping that his opinion would be more favorable, or that he world adopt some more active measures. Be was terribly disappointed when Ur. Moore only oonfirmed the opinion of the Rilohester doctors -trepanning could not be attempted; in all probability the patient would never recover conaciousness, but would sink in it few days. This was the opinion given to the dean -the doctor faltered a little as Esperance drew him aside. "Ton will not deceive me, I know," she said, raising her clear brown eyee to his. "Is there any hope of my husband's recovery? " • Never had the doctor been so etrongly tempted to hold out false hopes. He was silent for a moment, looking at the poor little wife, so young and helpless, so unable to bear calamity. But those unflinohing eyes would not allow him to prevarioate. "Itis possible, madame," he eaid, with emphasis. Her lips quivered. She saw plainly how very little hope he had. "How long? "the asked, in a tremulone voice. - "1* may be a few days," he answered, "or it may possible be weeks, or even months, There have been oases in which the patient has lingered on in this way and ultimately recovered, but it is only fair to tell you, madame, they are very rare." She asked it few more questions, keeping back her tears bravely ; then with a few *Oda of hearty sympathy Mr. Moore took leave, hurrying away to oat& the London train. (To be continued), "Why. Hattie," amid her mother, coming, in to see her newly married daughter nnex. peotly one evening, "how is it you are alone? John certainly didn't let yen pitee your evenings alone by yourself When he was courtieg you." "No, mamma ;but ever einoe we were married I'm beginning to find him out more and more. An Ineoneiderate Chap. Hotel Clerk (excitedly to proprietor) - The guest in No. 151 has committed anieide. Proprietor -Cut hio threat, 1 stimuli), And ruined the carpet I "NO; he turned on the gee and, miff°. sated himeelf." "Great heaveno 1 Doesn't he know that WO costa money f" beware of little eine-mosquitoeo drink MOM blood than lions. a HATIllaiONIAL VAOANOT. A woman who Ms Been Tea moos Mar. Heti and i8 Now Single. A woman living here has probably had more experience upon the nuttrinemiel sea in her short life than soy wciman living, writes the Bourbon (Ind.) correepondent of the Indianoepoliii Sentinel. Emma A. R. Lyon was born in Franklinsville, ()tette- magus coanty, N. Y., in 1836, and is now 54 years of age. At the age of 16 she re- moved to Lake Illaxinkuokee, Ind., and there =ferried Nelson Drake, a carpenter. Before her eighteenth birthday she was left tk widow with one child, a daughter, who is now Mrs. Burke, of Perm Ind. The next verature was an unetweefseful alliance, and the woman will not tell much about the man she married. He oaly counts ae No. 2. His name was Roberts. Early in 1856 she and Dr. Maryatte were married at Indianapolis). In that city she studied medicine with her husband and Professor Ballard. She finished her medi- cal course in Cinoinnati in 1858, and after that time continued praotioe in Inclining,. olio with marked success for many years, devoting her talents to the treatment of chronic diseases. In 1860 Dr. Maryatte died while on a visit to Batavia, 0. Three children were the result of this marriage, only one of whom grew to womanhood. After Dr. Maryatte came a man named Ballard, about whom nothing oan be gleaned. Mrs. Ballard, after his death or dieappearanne, removed from Indianapolis to Kokomo, where in it Bisort time ehe married Dr. Vaniden, who lived three years. He was killed in it railroad wreck. This union was a happy one. After the death of Dr. Vaniden the woman was united in marriage to n mart named Strawhaeller. Two children, both of whom are now living, came of this union. In 1876 Mrs. Stra whacker reraoved to Perm Ind., and there married William Moore, a carpenter. They removed in 1880 to Plyetouth, Ind., where she engaged in the praottoe of her profession. This union was a dismal failure from the start, and in 1883,on the ground of cruel treatment,Mrs. Moore secured a divorce. The seventh venture in thie interesting panorama of matrimonial proceedings was with a man named Thomae, and it was it dead failure. The muoh-married woman is reticent about the details of the affair. But in the fall of 1884 she married a retired farmer by the name of Cunningham. He waa in good financial circumstances, but penurie Custard Pudding -Take it pint of milIe. mut eke a miser, and refuaed to support his one cup of sugar and six eggs. Beat the wife. She then appealed to the court for sugar and eggs together, flavor with vanilla. a separation, which was granted early in Pour the milk in a pudding dish, mix in 1885. In July of the Game year she mar- the eges and sugar. Bake half an hour. ried another retired farmer named Spen- cer, who was as gentlemanly as Cunning. ham was miserly. With him she lived happily at Bourbon, Ind., until his death in May, 1888. Mr. Spencer himself had had considerable experience in matri- monial affairs. Previons to his marriage with the fair divorcee be had bound him- self to eight wives, only to be left a widower to find solace in the ex-wife of Farmer Cunningham. His eight former wives all died. But the ninth and lard Mrs. Spencer outlived him, and in 1889 made her last venture. At that time she was married to Judge Z. D. Boulton, an old resident of this city and a prominent attorney of the Marshall county bar. This union was not a happy one and a legal separation was granted Potato Pudding. -Take one pound of and confirmed at the present term of the mashed potatoes, one pound of sugar, two Marshall Circuit Court. The deoree was cups of butter, a teacup of oream, eix eggs, that Emma A. R. Boulton should be and the juice of a lemon. Stir all together awarded a decree of divorce from Zebidee and bake in puff paste. D. Boulton and her name changed to Emma A. R. Spencer. Mrs. Dr. Spencer is a prepossessing lady, considerably above the medium size, intel. ligent and refined in her conversation and manners, and possessing great beauty for a woman of her age. During her many matrimonial ventures she has suoceeded in aocumulating oonsiderable property and is considered in fairly good circumstances. DOZIBSI DuLsotous roungsoft. The Proof of the Pudding in the" Free- ing" of it. In making puddings care is nunnery tit have them a suooess, as many finch ono- Eleunds are an indigestible, nawholenomei article of food. The eggs shaidd always be beaten separately, the lieu sifted, the but- ter creamed with the auger, dried trait carefully washed. The flavoring need should be strong and pure, as cooking de - strop muoli of the *este. Wafer Pudding, -Put a onp and it hair. of milk to boil, put iu it oup of butter, etir until melted, mix in halt a pint of flour, let come to a boil, take off the fire, and set to, cool. Beat six eggs until light, add to the mixture, and beat herd. Set in it warm piece for thirty minutes, grease muffin - rings, perm in a little of the mixture, and, eba)ieein a quick oven. Serve hot wie&000.c. Roly Poly. -Chop EkVe OunoeS of Pnet fine, mix with half it pound of flour and a pint% of salt; add sufficient cold water tar mix, roll oat, spread with a pint of tart fruit jelly, roll up, tie in a well -floured cloth. Pat in a pot of boiling water and boil two holm. Serve with foaming agiu0e. Batter Pudding. -:-Sift two cups of fiour,, add a pinch of ealt ; beat six egge until light, stir in three pints of sweet milk, pour gradually over the flour; pour in it grease& mold and steam t wo hours. When done remove from the mold very carefully and serve with sauce. Creole Pudding. -Beat eight eggs with half a pound of engar, half a pound or butter, and the juice of one lemon. Line a deep dish with pufhpaste, cover with toilette preserves, pour over a little of the mixture, lay on more preserves, then more of the mixture and preserves Bake, and est With EDAM. Suet Padding. -One cup of molasses, one of chopped anet,one of milk, one each of raisins and ourrante, two and a half (mpg of sifted flour, with a teaspoonful ot baking.powder. Flavor with lemon. Steam. two houre and serve with cream sauce. Meringue Padding. -Line a deep pud- ding dish with slices of sponge cake, cover with rich fruit jam'pour over custard and bake; ice like oaks), set in stove to dry, take out and oover with meringue. Serve without sauce. Eat with sauce. Steamed Pudding. -Sift three cup of flour with a tablespoon of baking powder, mix with two cups of sugar, four eggae half a pound of raisins, a cup of cream. Let 'steam two hours. Serve with hard sauce. ()hinge Padding. -Take three large oraiages end out in small pieces, put in the bottom of it pudding faith, sprinkle with white sugar. Make a quart of custard and. pour over. Eat with rich game. Old Virginia Pudding. -Take three cape, of flour, one of suet, one ot milk, one of molasses, two of raising, half & teeispoonfal of soda dissolved in milk. Boil three borers. Serve with lemon sauce. Dire. Booth Dying. Mrs. Booth, the famous wife of General Booth, who has been so dangerously 'and painfully ill daring the poet two years, suffering with, it is said, cancer in the stomach, is still slowly einking,and no hopes are entertained of her reoovery. She is lying at Claoton-on-the-Sea, and a correspond- leonwtiwngho: lately visited her writes the fol. •We found Mrs. Booth greatly changed even in the short space of time that had elapsed since we were with her last. He face was mach worn by the agony which the fresh complications of the dreadful naalady have increased. One cannot go into the harrowing details, but I may simply say that the anguish has angmented. Mrs. Booth can hardly make a movement without the aontest pangs, and the times of relief afforded by the means used to allay the pain are dearly paid for in the distressing sickness which almost inevita- bly follows. "Truly, hope deferred maketh the heart siok," said the beloved suffer to us as she alluded to the great longing, each evening, that the dawn of the next morning, after the weary night, might find her in heaven. But throngh all the enffering of the past weeke, her thoughts have been continually (with that thoughtfulness for others which is such a characteristic of the family) centering themselves upon the happiness of the multitudes which would gather in health in the bright Crystal Palace -gather there, while she would be lying far away from it all, on it bed of pain. under the highest form of all trials to a nature like hers ; that of not being able to join actively in the work of that day for the Saviour she knows and loves eo well. Judiring Good BM. How to judge a good black silk is an accomplishment made easy by it contena- poritry in the following directions: Pull out a thread of the filling and see if it is strong. 11 1* stands the test, then rub one corner of the silk in the hands, as though washing it. After this operation, if it be good silk it will, upon being brushed out, look as smooth as ever. If, on holding it up to the light and looking through it, you see no traces of the rubbing, be sure this silk is good. The warp and filling should not differ much in size or it will not wear Well. If you choose it figured silk, let the figure be small and well woven, else it will soon present a frayed appearanee, and you will have to puck off the little tagf3 of silk that will dot the broadthe. inezeueable Jinks -That fellow Sillipate is the most inexOutable fool I ever saw. Witlitft—What him he been doing to you? Jinks -A few date; ago male one invited him to dinner at our boarding house. Well, sir, that idiot just praised every dish on the table and complimented the landlady on her cooking lentil she raieed our rates $2 it week. The German Empress Frederielt le writing the life of her late huebAnd, and it is announced that the preeeni Emperor is giving her all the help in hie power. The artist Whistler lo it very small man phyeioally-olight and dark, With ending gray hair. His eyes are blue and twinkling. Ills attire is Odd. Boiled puddings should be bailed in a, bag of firm drilling, always allowing room for swelling. Steaming is better than bail- ing. Thick earthen pudding molde are best for baking puddings. Transparent Pudding. -Beat ten eggs, a pound of butter, and a quarter of a pound of auger together, flavor with nutmeg and bake in puff paste.--Erome Journal. Costumes of Anglo-Saxon Women. Anglo-Saxon women of all stations (.4.D. 600-1000) wore long, loose robes, trailing to the ground, the sleeves reaching in loose folds to the waist and terminating there with a rich border. The front of the dress appears to be looped rip into festoone, being, secured by a male. The head dress is com- posed of linen or embroidered silkovrapped, mantilla fashion around thehead and neck. This, in the illuminated MSS. of that period, conceals from us the manner in. which the hair was then worn, but, accord- ing to early writers, it is evident that great attention was bestowed on its arrange- ment, and in one Anglo-Saxon poem men- tion is made of "Judith, the ward of the Creator, with twisted looks." The coetumege appear to be made in silk and linen, an& as with the male eex, red, blue and green. were the prevailing colors. Embroidered flowers and scrolls are visible on the robes and head-dresses. Gloves were not WO= before the eleventh century, but jaet before this period mufflers or coverings for the hands of some kind were worn. -Dry Goads Chronicle. Two New Comets. M. Flammarion, of the Juvisy Observa- tory, announoes this morning, that there are at this moment two comets visible with astronomical instruments, one in the con- stellation of Leo Minor, the other in the Little Bear. Both are very faint andl in- visible to the naked eye. The first of these celestial visitants has just been discovered by M. Goggle at Marseilles ; the second by Mr. Denning at Bristol. Just what sensa- tion they are destined to make in the astronomical world will have to be deter- mined by careful calculations. When a comet is first seen the tail is often very small, but it rapidly elongates as the' flhaasy wanderer nears the sun, acquiring an enormous velocity, and the material of its head, vaporized by the intense heat, streams back on its tail. Vffleacions Prayer. Tourist -Do you believe in the efficacy of prayer? Kansan -You bet ! W'y, at main' Wednesday night, I prayed good an' loud fer additional blessin'e on our boom& little city, sorto mentionin' at the setae time the unbounded prosperity that Provi- dence had showered upon us, an' early next neared& I sold four lots at 30 per cent. advance to it newcomer who had been at the meetin'."---Munsey's Weekly. She Was interested. Cumeo-I fear this Behring Sea matter ie going to cause it great deal of trouble. Mrs. Otimso-Oh, I hope -you don't think it will raise the price of sealers:1a moque, do you? "My dear, I'm glad to be able to an- oure you that my husband and I have it perfectly blind confidence in eaoti 'other:* Alas! darling, I'm sorry to oity that my huribancl'e confidence in me is only & little neemighteci." Mr. Lowell stye "11 I have attained to any clearnesa Of style, I think it le partly due to my having had to lelithre twenty yearo as it proicssor at genera. It wan always present to my 00110010tieness that whatever I Medd tenet he rundertitood at otos, by my heaven or never.'.